Some Odd Convictions
by shoutgraffiti
Summary: The stroke of a sage's brush relies on more than just a good story: The Tale of Uzumaki Naruto begins, simply, with fear.


**some odd convictions.**

q...p

q...p

q...p

One thing Naruto knows is that if a member of Akatsuki captures him, it is for keeps. They will seal his chakra after binding his limbs; they will test his flesh for that of the Kyuubi's, before they test his for his; they will drain him of his dreams and excuse it all with the mockery of a single, four-syllable word: _jinchuuriki_.

Sometimes it hardly matters.

Sometimes he moves through the taijutsu Jiraiya assigns to him and clears his mind of everything but _I have to get good at this, I have to learn this as fast as possible_, so he doesn't have to think of each reason why.

He's angry, Jiraiya tells him, he's an angry jumble and he needs to start honing himself into the weapon he was meant to be. _He means as a shinobi, not as a beast_. Concentration, concentration – Jiraiya demands this of his student constantly, because he'd rather him go nowhere than aimlessly get too far.

But if anger leads to ruin, then hatred leads to Sasuke, and sometimes Naruto wonders whether he ought to be following the same path Sasuke has set for him. Sometimes Naruto wonders if Sasuke has noticed to whom all his actions lead, wonders if Sasuke has realized that he has become a set of limbs-on-strings: a marionette carved elegantly, painstakingly, to be dragged along on a whim.

He's not Sasuke; he doesn't know.

Regardless of that, regardless of Naruto's feelings – wants, dreams – promises of lifetimes and other ties he's sworn to keep; regardless of Ero-Sennin or Tsunade-baa-chan or Sasuke, of all the taijutsu he whittles his body to, it is simply that there is only one thing Naruto _needs_ to know.

And it remains absolute: if a member of Akatsuki captures him, it is for keeps.

q...p

Naruto drops his pack as soon as Ero-Sennin signals that he can, flops flat on his back and stares at the sky, because it has seemed strange for days. "Ero-sennin," he says, softly, "tell me about this place."

Ero-Sennin's glance is made up of something long and still, incomprehensible and understanding all at once; Naruto feels a rush of gratitude as the older man sits and leans against the trunk of the tree they've made their stop at. Both geta-clad feet rest a little ways from his head, and Naruto can see the hardened fissures of his teacher's soles, dusted and worn.

"This town is called Chousume," Ero-Sennin replies. His eyes are shut and face damp, chapped lips flaking with each word. "It is a small populace that lives here, and the town is very close to the seaside. It is unable to attract many tourists due to several outcroppings around the shore that make it unsafe for general civilian travel from northern districts."

There's silence, and breeze, and Naruto asks, "We didn't come here because you have _research_, did we?"

There's more silence, and they both know the answer: it is because when sightings of the red-cloud cloaks were relayed to Jiraiya, escaping eastwards was the safest way to go.

Supposedly.

Naruto trusts his teacher in this, in the instinct of survival ingrained into the older man's being. It is that what has kept the man alive, through the wars, through Orochimaru, through the tailed demons and through his _own_ demons, which a shinobi of his age must have very many of. Naruto is only thirteen, and though it takes more than two hands to count the difference in the number of years they've lived, he thinks he might be able to imagine.

"We're going to start working on bringing out that power of yours," Ero-Sennin finally says, grinning and taking a long draft of water and knowing that Naruto's been waiting to hear that since they first set out, a month and eight days ago. "It's going to be tough work, like I said before."

Naruto knows that, and says so, _indignantly_ because he's never gotten anything the easy way except for maybe Kyuubi. It is an odd thought, but not as odd as Ero-Sennin's laugh, which is the only familiar thing in a place that is anything but. A fragile hold though it's something, and Naruto has always grasped tight to any he has at all found.

q...p

He gathers threads of who he is and grasps those close, too. Despite what others would say, there are only four things that define who Naruto knows he is – none of them include Kyuubi.

The first of those threads is his name.

A lot of people seem to know it before he says it, but that's all right all the same – he happens to _like_ his name. He likes the way its spelled, the way he sees it in every bowl of ramen he eats, the way it sounds coming from the people who are precious to him and the way that it is his. He likes nearly everything about it.

The second is that he likes ramen.

There is not ever much to say about that, other than that he misses it every meal that it is not the main course of.

Third thread is that, one day, he will become Hokage. Oftentimes, Naruto feels as though there is too much to say about that.

And anyway, it stems from the fourth: _Konoha is all he has, and all he will ever keep_.

q...p

He wonders if Konoha is really all Ero-Sennin has left, too, because the locals in Chousume greet the older man as if he has only been hiding from them. "Is this boy your grandson, Jiraiya-san?" a married woman asks – and Naruto can tell she's married, because Ero-Sennin's nose is not oozing blood over her larger-than-normal breasts. She's carrying a load of vegetables, and Naruto guesses that she must have a husband and children that she's returning to make a meal for. Jiraiya is silent, and Naruto doesn't want to tell her that he's an orphan, that he grew up unwelcome and that his inability to rid his mouth of the taste of Konoha's dirt is what taught him to relish it.

"I'm Uzumaki Naruto!" he says instead, smiling so wide his eyes close shut. He opens his mouth again, this time to add _and I'm going to be the next Hokage_, but remembers just in time that there's a reason that neither of them are wearing their forehead protectors; he lets a confused silence follow his proclamation, though he is not lost for words.

The woman laughs, gives to Jiraiya a warm _nice to have seen you why don't you come over for dinner sometime the kids miss you_, and bows before she walks away, hair swaying after her just like Sakura-chan's would before she'd shorn it short and _really_ taken up being a shinobi.

q...p

Naruto turns to find Ero-Sennin watching him sidelong, like he sometimes does when Naruto thinks the older man has something on his mind that relates to him in one way or another, because wouldn't that make _sense_? Jiraiya does not hesitate once he actually starts talking, but until then, there are uneasy moments when all the words Naruto has to say are written on his face and Ero-Sennin is too constipated with his to offer the same.

When they are checked into the tiny, toppling inn in the north of town and Naruto has paid for a fortnight, they file up the stairs and into their room. Naruto never feels like unpacking until he has to, so he sits by the window and taps the wooden floors, idly wondering if these planks would bend with his weight as much as those in his apartment had gotten used to doing. His eyes wander aimlessly because the heat is still stifling, and notices Ero-Sennin... _stalling_.

"Why do you have to keep _peeping_?" Naruto groans as he watches Jiraiya unpack his tools and trade them for his pen and paper. "Isn't once a week enough inspiration?"

Ero-Sennin does not respond for a long while, hands alternately calm and excited depending on which page he's flipping, which naked girl Naruto thinks he must be remembering. Finally, because Naruto still hasn't turned his gaze away and that is precisely what is Ero-Sennin's weakest point, Jiraiya puts everything down and sits, turning all his attention on his student.

"Naruto," he says, "as a shinobi, what do you think it is that makes you strong?"

There are so many answers that strike him he doesn't know which to pick, for a moment, before he remembers his own. He hasn't said the words in a long, long time, but his tongue, teeth, lips and threads have memorized the feel of them, even if they have forgotten their depth: "My _nindo_. My way."

"What is that _nindo_?"

Naruto briefly glances up, to make sure Jiraiya looks as serious as he feels, and continues when he confirms that the older man is. "To keep my promises, never go back on my word... never give up."

Jiraiya smiles, a wry tug of his lips and brows, before it's all ruined by the pervy leer he gets when his brothel-senses start tingling. "Precisely."

"That doesn't explain anything!"

"It explains everything, Naruto," Ero-Sennin replies, turning back to his own things. "How many years have you had to reaffirm that _nindo_? How many epiphanies have you yet had about what your _nindo_ means to you?"

"...how many whats?"

"Realizations, you fool. Ahh, you don't read much, do you..."

"I still don't get what that has to do with why you're such a pervert."

"You'll have more of those realizations, Naruto." His teacher's shoulders do not slump, just as slightly as his voice does not sound softer. "As long as you're growing as a shinobi, you will have experiences that will give you new insights into your own _nindo_."

He turns and Naruto wonders at the fact that the older man looks like he might as well be drunk before he even got started on his night's fun. "You see," Ero-Sennin goes on, scrunching his fingers excitedly, "my inspiration is much like your _nindo_. It must be nurtured and developed by many new experiences, as many as it can get! For example, I'm not sure if a woman with bigger breasts than Tsunade's exists, but – "

By this time Naruto has already tuned Ero-Sennin out, because he is too busy counting the times he's had these "epiphanies" and starting, vaguely, to dread the next.

q...p

Because there are so many things that can go wrong, Naruto knows he will have to get back up. He will have to tangle his hands and nails and let those threads of who he is dig into his skin, to drag him back to his feet from where all those epiphanies have thrown him down.

And it is not Jiraiya's fault. Jiraiya is doing him a huge favor, training him one-on-one like this, and if he spends a lot of that time alone, it will be okay, because to become a stronger ninja is what he has come along to accomplish.

But sometimes it is very hard to get up, and it is very hard to know that Ero-Sennin is doing him a favor. It is easier to stay, it is easier to forget, and Naruto does not know what it is about himself that won't accept that.

q...p

It takes Naruto several long minutes of poking the wart on Jiraiya's nose to wake Ero-Sennin up in the morning, and Naruto thinks that the older man's scent hints a higher percentage proof than it usually does. He hopes it's not because of him, then ignores it for the sake of asking his teacher what to do. "I've already done my morning routine and the taijutsu I've been working on but isn't there something new you can teach me?"

"Like what?" Jiraiya's grogginess probably doesn't hide Naruto's frown from him, but he rolls over and asks for another hour.

So Naruto tries to give it to him, because he's not sure how clean an escape they made from Akatsuki and if Jiraiya's so tired he won't push it. In the meantime, he continues to work on little things, as much as he can manage without having to resort to meditation because it's still the one thing left he needs more than just another hour to perfect. Without falling asleep, at least.

q...p

"If you're to become Hokage one day," Jiraiya says, once he wakes up and washes his face, "there's a lot more you need to understand about the world."

"Like what?"

"There are lots of requirements to becoming Hokage," Jiraiya continues brusquely but not without offering him a mild grin in the meanwhile, "the most important of which you already know: being one of the strongest ninja in the village. There are other things that usually come hand-in-hand with that sort of strength, right? Like knowledge, and smarts, the book type... don't get that look, brat, we'll work around those."

Naruto knows that Jiraiya means it.

"Those are things anyone can learn, with a bit of effort. Everything else..." Jiraiya turns and focuses his gaze on him fully before adding, "The things that can't be learned, Naruto, are what is most important, and you don't need to worry about those."

_That_ is, admittedly, what he likes to hear, though it will always have to be more than enough. "So I can be Hokage if I go read everything in the library _right now_!"

Jiraiya chuckles, reaching over to ruffle Naruto's hair as he begins walking out. "If only. You can't learn it all overnight. Have you eaten breakfast?"

"No, I ran out of cup ramen three days ago. I kept telling you I was running low! And all you did was waste my cash on booze and girls!"

Another laugh, another ruffle of the hair. "Did I? Well, I'm not training you for free. Come on, then, let's find you some more. My treat."

Jiraiya doesn't end up teaching Naruto anything new that day _or_ that night, because it is an unspoken ritual for them to take a day off when they arrive in a new place. They pass by the bars, sight-see the street shows and visit any abodes of long-dead lords and ladies, of which there are curiously many of. Jiraiya buys a blue, double popsicle and breaks one off for him, and they weave in and out of the crowd as part of it rather than not. It is nice. It feels a little like home, though he has not quite experienced anything of the sort back in Konoha.

q...p

The next day, Naruto learns that Chousume is a town that is home to precisely two ramen stands. The smaller one is next door to Jiraiya's favored brothel, and the bigger is nestled amongst other food shops in safer parts of the town. Naruto sits at the smaller one indefinitely, trying to finish the texts Jiraiya has told him to read long after he's finished slurping up his ramen.

_Konohagakure has been economically superior to Iwagakure only since the end of the Third Great Ninja War, despite that Iwa accumulated greater losses in the tumult of the collapse and dissemination of Whirlpool Country in the second of the great wars a generation before. Prior to this, Grass Country's trade routes leading to the west, primarily en route the Kannabi Bridge, made mass transit of goods and textiles to and beyond the lands under occupation of Bird Country possible with thrice the efficiency available before._

Naruto does not care to retain any of this information, other than that Konoha is better.

Jiraiya _does_ care that he doesn't care to retain any of this information, and makes it clear. "And I always _did_ wonder how the dead-last thing worked for you." He doesn't look as displeased as Iruka tends to, but Naruto feels the same shame nonetheless.

"The names and dates are hard to remember," Naruto says carefully, peering down at the nooks in the aging wood of the table they're sitting at. His fingernails are too short to pick with, but he was never the type to fidget in the first place.

"Then _pay more attention_ to them." Jiraiya's voice is louder, but he doesn't sound particularly angry. "Which nation did Iwa occupy during the Third Great War? Which bridge did they primarily use to smuggle into Fire Country?"

Naruto looks at his mentor's face uncomfortably, tentative places and eras springing up in his mind, though he knows that none of them are right. This isn't a Chuunin Exam. He only fails himself if he cannot give the right answers. He absently stuffs himself with another mouthful of ramen.

Jiraiya looks back, and it's another one of those long, assessing glances that Naruto is finding himself more and more daunted by. Then Jiraiya shuts the books, calls to the old man behind the bar for another serving of ramen each, speaks only when it arrives and gives Naruto his usual, easy grin as he does so.

"Look, I know it's all boring when you're reading it out of a history textbook," he says, "but this isn't just stuff you need to know as Hokage, it's general knowledge you should have already managed to learn in the academy. But you're a personable kid, and I'm a damn good storyteller, if I do say so myself -"

"But I thought all you write is porn," Naruto interrupts, noodles busting out of his mouth as he frowns up at Jiraiya.

"Fool," the older man booms, a wavering a strip of seaweed hanging from the ends of the chopsticks he's brandishing, "I'm in the business of _art_, nothing like you could dream of understanding!"

As Ero-Sennin stuffs his face and fumes to himself, Naruto dismissively goes on slurping his noodles.

"As I was saying, Naruto," Jiraiya grates out, "if it's hard for you to remember from these texts, I'll just have to reword their histories for you."

Naruto blinks, wondering what that means. Before he can ask, Jiraiya is flipping to the beginning of the text he'd been tapping before, skims a few pages and begins to retell it all.

q...p

_The Fourth Hokage was a pretty cool guy, Naruto. You know of him, of course – who doesn't? You remember his name? No? Hmm._

_Well, I'll only tell you if you promise to memorize it beyond anything else I tell you. He was an important man and he was important to me. And since apprentices should learn their masters' nindo, and vice versa, you'll need to know that my nindo was his and his was mine... they'll both become part of yours, too._

_His name was Namikaze Minato. He was handsome, he was smart, he was cool... pretty much nothing like you... but you remind me of him anyway. He spearheaded the front against Iwa in the Third Great Ninja War, you see? Taking down the Kannabi Bridge was a huge operation, and it was his team that was assigned to taking it out from behind, while Iwa's forces were occupied._

_Kakashi was on his team, he could tell you about it better. But I wouldn't ask – a lot of people were dying back then... it's a sensitive thing and Kakashi's never been one to talk, has he? Ha. Never one to be on time, either, on second thought..._

q...p

Slowly, Naruto learns. He learns the names of important people only because he's been told what they were like; he learns the names of important places only because he's been told who died there; he learns everything he's supposed to have already known, but in a way that's better and fuller and deeper for the breadth of detail Jiraiya is able to weave into them.

He listens with his chin down, hands on his head, slow to blink and rapt on watching his teacher's features move with the tales he is telling. For an old man who has known a lot of people, Naruto thinks it brilliant what he remembers.

Tsunade-baa-chan used to smile once at the beginning of a conversation and once at the end, but only for Nawaki and Dan.

Mikoto was a jounin before she wed Fugaku, and Fugaku never got over someone like her accepting into her life someone like him.

But Shikato was just like Shikamaru, before he met his wife and got mauled in the face so badly by her he couldn't help but propose for fear of what she'd do if he didn't.

Orochimaru had a birthmark right by the lobe of his left ear, which he meticulously loathed until he swapped his body for one that wasn't his.

Sarutobi was a total pervert, but Naruto already knows that.

What else Naruto doesn't know is how Jiraiya can stand having _known_ so many people. He imagines how he would feel if he lost Iruka-sensei or Sasuke, Sakura-chan or Kakashi-sensei, though his mind doesn't wander much further than _I would fall apart_. He knows it wouldn't be for long if only because of those threads he can't let go of, but how deep loss can steep is a new width he is still learning to straddle.

q...p

"Akatsuki is after you," Jiraiya says suddenly, the next morning upon which they've finished sparring and going through all the techniques Naruto must hone if he means to hope to have a head to keep. "Akatsuki will not stop for anything to get you, once they seriously decide to pursue you."

Naruto hasn't forgotten and he says so.

That doesn't mean he can figure out anything more he can do about the situation. Jiraiya may be the old one between the two of them but the more he trains with Kyuubi chakra, the thinner Naruto thinks his skin and nerves fray, the more he wonders where his own strength ends and the demon's begins. Of this, he says nothing. He and Jiraiya are both trying.

His sensei scans him again before he grins reassuringly, the streaks on his cheeks molding into perfect parentheses, framing the precise subtext Naruto has molded his life around. And he grins back.

q...p

The afternoon is dewy and warm, and in the shade of the trees he feels almost sedated – it all feels reckless, despite the bolster he infuses into as many of his activities as possible. It doesn't distract him from _what if_ – What ifs! He could write books on what ifs, Naruto thinks, like _what if I had an endless supply of miso ramen_ and _what if I had an endless supply of pork ramen_ and _what if I had to choose between an endless supply of miso or pork ramen_.

He does not think of what ifs like _what if I have to choose between Sakura-chan and Sasuke_ and _what if I have to choose between Konoha and Sasuke_ and _what if I have to choose between having a choice between Sakura-chan and Konoha and Sasuke_.

And he most certainly doesn't think of _what if Akatsuki captures all the demons_ and _what if I die before I can save me_ and _what if Akatsuki captures all the demons and I die before I can save Konoha from me_.

After all, those sorts of what ifs are rather too rhetorical for someone like Naruto and the next time Jiraiya stops and stares and says that "you have been spending too much time around me" as if it is a fault – well, Naruto thinks he'll take Ero-Sennin more seriously. Weighty thoughts are made for greater people and he feels silly and small for having held them for even just a little.

q...p

Naruto has not often counted himself more than two things: one, a citizen of Konoha and two, a shinobi of Konoha. Sometimes he can count himself three, the best patron Ichiraku Ramen has ever seen and ever will see and four, the next Hokage – but these are obvious and Naruto likes to count himself surprising, too.

Five, the apprentice of the the Great Frog Sage Jiraiya.

But that is something he'll stay for the rest of his life and isn't in a rush to shove into other people's faces. Weighty people have weighty _nindo_, he learns, though Jiraiya's doesn't seem very far from his own.

q...p

They are at the little ramen stand again, after Ero-Sennin's spent the day researching. Akatsuki must not have come this way, for now, because it's easy to tell he's in a good mood. He's talking about girls, and Naruto frowns and squints and asks what that has to do with anything, anything at all.

"You're getting to an age where you have to start appreciating the female form!" Ero-Sennin tells him. He lifts his hands and waves them in place. "Curvy chicks, skinny chicks, plump chicks, flat chicks... it's all art, Naruto, the art of the femininity."

Naruto wonders how feminine Sakura-chan's right hook is, but doesn't say anything. Sakura-chan's a girl, all right, but like Tsunade-baa-chan, he doesn't count her merits based on her boobs. "Ero-Sennin, Tsunade-baa-chan would really hit you a good one if she heard you saying that."

Jiraiya's hands plop back down and he laughs nervously, bribes Naruto with another bowl of ramen in return for a solemn oath of silence. Naruto only gives it because whether or not Jiraiya is aware of his being aware of it, the older man is in love and Naruto thinks he knows enough of what that means to cut the man some slack.

q...p

Things would be really lonely, in a way, back in Konoha. This is a wistful thought because Chousume has nothing on the hidden village and nor does it prompt in him something to live for. He tells Jiraiya later that evening, when the man is more sober, that sealing jutsu can be studied elsewhere and if Akatsuki's gone, can they leave yet?

"Why are you so eager to leave, brat?" Jiraiya asks curiously, almost concerned. "It's only been four days." He is wearing his sleeping robe and Naruto is flopped down on his futon in his own, trying to find the words to articulate what he means.

"I'm not getting much done here," he finally settles on saying, head on his folded arms and facing down. "And it's really hot in this town."

"Those sound like excuses to me," Jiraiya says after a moment, lightly, looking away and going through the scrolls in his pack. "You're not one to make excuses."

"I'm not –"

"You _are_ good at asking for help when you need it," Jiraiya goes on, cutting him off. "You're good at accepting it, even if you haven't asked for it. What you're terrible at is finding people that are willing to offer it. Once you realize why that is, you'll have all the help you need."

Naruto doesn't know what to say or do, save to focus on that his palms are aching from all the threads he tries and wants to grip and that his hands don't quite yet stretch wide enough to do so.

q...p

His focus is lacking, it's always been lacking, Naruto thinks Jiraiya is telling him, and he'd rather him get nowhere than aimlessly get too far. He's angry and he's a mess and he'd better fix that right away because as much as he wants to save Sasuke, it's not an excuse in lieu of knowing that Akatsuki's capture of him will be for keeps.

Naruto doesn't know how to fix how he knows that Sasuke and all the other bonds and promises he's sworn to are for keeps, too.

q...p

Naruto's trust is never fragile, nor is it instinctual – it is _learned_: slowly, like everything he's ever had to read out of textbook. Because Jiraiya hasn't been there to translate things for him, to weave each person's details into a tale for him, too, he's had to rely on the other person to offer their story themselves.

Haku didn't know hope until he met Zabuza.

Neji had to watch his father get tortured by those that should have been more family than just blood-ties born better than him.

Gaara loved Gaara because if he didn't, there would be nothing else left.

And Sasuke... Sasuke never told Naruto everything, or much of anything, until the Valley of the End. Even that, Naruto is sure, isn't all there is to it. Jiraiya thinks the hole in his chest was enough of a conclusion but he also hasn't quite learned Naruto's _nindo_ just yet.

q...p

On the morning of the fifth day of their stay in the little seaside town called Chousume, Naruto awakens to a blunt object landing on his forehead and Ero-Sennin's modest cackle of _rise and shine, Naruto!_

He groans and tries to use whatever Ero-Sennin has put on his head as a means of blocking out the mental image of the white-haired man's trademark hilarious expression, the one he gets when he's excited about something. It doesn't work and Naruto coughs out half a laugh, rolling from his back to his side and rubbing his eyes before he peers down at what seems to be... a book.

The cover is black and on the front, in gold lettering, is _Legend of the Gutsy Ninja_. Naruto immediately blanches because who the hell would read a pervy book called that? ...Though it _does_ sound better than the other stuff he is currently reading.

"E-ro-Sen-nin," he starts his tirade, but at the silence he finally looks around and realizes that Jiraiya is no longer there. The window's open and there's an early morning breeze, but the book in his hands is the only proof he has of Jiraiya's presence at all since waking up. Other than the cackle.

He looks at the book again. It doesn't look perverted on the outside – the usual indicators aren't there, at least. No orange cover, no booby girls... and so he flips to page one.

q...p

"What're you reading?" Jiraiya asks, when he finds Naruto, still dirty from training, having miso ramen at the ramen stand by the brothel.

"The book on the royal family, Ero-Sensei," Naruto says distractedly. He slurps a mouthful, wiping at the blots that get on the pages with his sleeve as he does so. "Was I supposed to try and finish this or did you want me to read the one you threw at me this morning?"

"That's for later," Jiraiya says, ordering a bowl for himself. "You can take your time with it, it's just a gift." Another moment, a glance, and Jiraiya asks, "Did you happen to read any of it?"

"Only the first sentence... it was even more boring than those _Icha Icha_ books, Ero-Sennin!" Naruto frowns and Jiraiya laughs at him again, because they both know that if he doesn't have to, Naruto will never get around to finishing it.

Naruto gives his thanks, anyway, and Jiraiya with a ruffle to the head tells him who's who of the feudal family their country is supposed to protect. Naruto's met a few that were okay, himself, but Fire Country's Lady Shijimi and her cat have never left a good impression and Jiraiya's tales do little to dispel it.

q...p

They're training again, that evening, except Naruto's body feels worse than it ever has since defeating Gaara. His bones ache on the inside, his skin aches on the outside and his thoughts lie in a vague state of awareness in between the two. Training with the Kyuubi tugs his sinews like nothing else and Naruto thinks that some part of him is scared that they're going too fast, that he's going too slow, that unless he paces himself this chakra will eat him whole.

"I can't move my legs," he says to Jiraiya, once he gets his throat working. "...My arms, either." He's flat on his back and feels like he's been watching the sky, strange as it has been, for days.

But quickly Jiraiya's already leaning over him and pressing at his joints, healing chakra glowing at his fingertips and brows bent with concentration. "There's no way around it, Naruto. Your capacity for the Kyuubi chakra gets better with each time you use it, though it puts you in such a state..."

"It's okay," Naruto lies, his throat parched raw, "makes me stronger. I'll... beat Sasuke. From Orochimaru."

Jiraiya sighs, frowns, brows bent, still discerning, now concerned. "Fool." Pauses, ruffles of hair. "Fool, fool, fool."

q...p

Naruto doesn't think he ever _chose_ to be a fool, at first. No, at first, it was everything he wasn't. He'd gone to the academy like a wise shinobi, he'd tried at the academy like a wise shinobi, he'd stayed loyal to his village at any cost like a wise and, more importantly, _true_ shinobi... he'd simply fallen short of it all, save the last one.

Until Sasuke left, he'd only been a fool almost because he couldn't be anything but. He doesn't believe in fate, but there are such things as circumstances.

q...p

It's been a few moments since he's woken up and though the lighting is hazy, he finds Jiraiya at his bedside, steadfastly penning away at the notebook propped against his knee. The older man dots his sentence and looks long at Naruto before asking him if he felt any better.

Unsurprisingly, Naruto feels better and says so. Jiraiya hmm's. Neither of them move.

Naruto doesn't usually feel bothered by their silences but this time he wants to fill it. With what, though, he can't think of anything – so he doesn't say anything, and wishes that it is only because it is simpler that way.

Then Jiraiya wordlessly says _I'm sorry_, puts a hand on his head and leaves it there, and Naruto wants to laugh because even though he hurts all over, he can't imagine ever being too old for this. He can count the times he's woken up to someone waiting on him before on three fingers and realizes that somewhere along the way, the bond he shares with the older man has become precious.

"What made you start writing?" he asks curiously, a moment or so later.

Jiraiya smiles and laughs pleasantly, and Naruto notices he looks younger without his forehead protector on. "I became a writer because I was afraid."

Naruto blinks. He's never considered that. "How does that work?"

Jiraiya lifts his hand from Naruto's hair and leans back in his seat. He looks relaxed as he speaks but there is something frigid in the strength of his jaw that doesn't miss Naruto's admittedly limited observational skills. "I became a writer because I was afraid. That's what happens to people who've chosen to live their lives as a fool. It is lonely, and it is difficult... and it is the same reason why you can't make excuses." Jiraiya grins down at him and Naruto watches it fade and rest. "Writing was not an excuse but a look at all the mistakes I should not have made and did anyway."

Naruto presses his lips together, wets them as he glances away; then glances back to make eye contact with his teacher. "I'm not afraid!"

Jiraiya's eyes watch him objectively as he replies with, "Good. Then you are a very wise shinobi."

Somehow that sounds worse than being a fool, so he admits that he's scared, maybe, just a little – quietly, "No, then... I'm still a fool. I choose to be."

It coaxes a smile out of Jiraiya again and the stark lines of his jaw ease into something softer. He pats Naruto again, before asking him if he's up to a super extra large bowl of take-out miso ramen – which, of course, Naruto takes him up on, no questions asked.

q...p

Naruto thinks it all makes sense, on second thought. He doesn't remember feeling very afraid of many things, when he was younger, just because there was little he thought to fear. He had wanted many things but was not scared that he would not get them; simply knew that he did not have them – that if he did, things might not have been as lonely and sad as they were. He hoped anyway.

But the first time he upholds the will of fire is when he first understands strength; understands that his being a fool, his being scared for another is what results in his determination to overcome that fear and beat the cause of it – that is what gave him what courage he needed to face his enemies and to defeat them beyond what should have been his means. Mizuki and Haku, Neji and Gaara, Orochimaru and Kabuto.

He wonders where he faltered against Sasuke and vows not to do so again. He does not consider that it is Sasuke who faltered against him.

q...p

It is two days later that they train again, after which they head to the ramen stand and sit in what has become their usual table. The owner of the place has learned their names, looks like he looks forward to seeing them come in, like they've grown familiar even though they look so strange compared to everyone else in the little town.

"You're making good progress in your training," Jiraiya begins to lecture after he's done eating, Naruto's thirteenth bowl in. "Your _Rasengan_ is getting more powerful and your control of our little friend there is getting better."

Naruto wouldn't call the Kyuubi a "little friend" but knows from Jiraiya's smirk that he usually wouldn't either, and nods, listening.

Jiraiya taps two fingers against the dented wood of the table before he firmly adds, "Don't forget the strength of your normal chakra, either, Naruto. I'm training you with the other because it's a powerful asset and something you need to have under control, but yours is plenty strong and I don't want you using it unless you have no choice."

"Yeah, mine is definitely strong!" Naruto agrees proudly. He doesn't think he's heard it often enough.

"It would have had to be," Jiraiya muses, "to hold it in at all."

This strikes Naruto odd, because doesn't often think on _why_ it is he that is the _jinchuuriki_ and not some other orphan – thinks that it is only because he is an orphan that he was convenient and chosen for the job.

He swallows his mouthful and asks, "What if my chakra stops working and it gets out?"

"If your chakra stops working, you're dead," Jiraiya says, leaning forward on his elbows. "If you're dead, it means you've run into the wrong guys. And if you've run into the wrong guys and fail to survive one way or another – well, it all depends on whether they've taken it from you in the meanwhile."

If a member of Akatsuki captures him, it will be for keeps.

Some of his worry must have shone through, because a moment later, Jiraiya says to him, "Naruto, a shinobi must endure, above all things, the fear of mistakes they fear to make. As long as you keep your promises and never give up, you won't have to face a conclusion in which you'll say to yourself 'I've failed'. You'll have given it everything in you and that's all anyone can ask."

q...p

Jiraiya must be a very good writer, Naruto thinks, because despite all the pervy things he does, he eerily manages to say the right things – when he wants to, of course. Ero-Sennin barely manages to avoid getting punched by Tsunade-baa-chan on his better days and that must mean something, too.

q...p

A week later, when they are leaving Chousume, he feels like he has gotten just a little closer to Sasuke and where he's supposed to be. Nothing has resolved itself, not really, but he's learned that so long as he holds his threads close – threads of himself, of his bonds, of his promises of lifetimes and other ties he's sworn to keep – things will end, if not smoothly, at least befitting of a true shinobi.

And because Sasuke will not become a set of limbs-on-strings, a marionette carved elegantly, painstakingly, to be dragged along on a whim – Naruto will never have to face a conclusion in which he'll know himself to have failed at every fear he's sworn to beat.

But the next town is Hajimutsa, Jiraiya tells him, and the one after that is Kajuku; after those there are others they will stop at and train in and learn from and so long as these fools keep on going, their fears cannot catch up to them unless they are ready to face them – _there is still time, there is still three years time_.

q...p

And it remains absolute: _The Tale of Uzumaki Naruto_ will not end in defeat.

q...p

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**Disclaimer**: Naruto isn't mine.

**Notes**: Started as an exercise in uncertainty... turned into this. Your turn to talk to me!


End file.
